


Hush

by Rivalry_of_Destiny



Category: Persona 4
Genre: 0-0, Angst, Emotional-distress, Headphones play a part in this somehow, I put more meaning into this than I though I would tbh, M/M, Slight romance feels but if you want to think they're just friends then go ahead, Souji angst, Yosuke proves he can be a good friend, because let's be real, he's a smol stoic cinnamon roll, spoiler - Freeform, there's a haiku at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 18:52:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7475853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivalry_of_Destiny/pseuds/Rivalry_of_Destiny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji had always hated the “sshhhh” sound people make when someone consoles a crying person. To him, the sound is belittling and agitating, making the tears immediately disappear as a scowl of fury embeds itself on his face. But this, this was different. He didn't know if it was because somehow Yosuke’s arms were warmer than the few he’d experienced, if it was the quiet music he can hear coming from the brunette’s headphones, or even if it was just the fact that it’s Yosuke and this feels so right that it completely overrides everything else. All Souji knows is that in this moment, for the first time in his life, he doesn’t seem to mind the “sshhh” consoling words he used to despise so much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hush

               Souji had always hated the “sshhhh” sound people make when someone consoles a crying person. To him, the sound is belittling and agitating, making the tears immediately disappear as a scowl of fury embeds itself on his face. Even though he thinks it’s a load of BS, he knows the science behind it. Supposedly, it sounds simi to when you were inside your mother's’ womb, where it’s dark and warm and safe and there’s nothing to worry about. In all honesty that sounds like heaven to th silver-haired teen right now, but maybe his wisdom isn’t at its best considering his current situation.

               His uncle is in a hospital bed, hooked up to a few machines, his niece also in a hospital bed but hooked up to _more_ machines and in a coma, probably going to die after tonight. There’s more to it, more things nagging and whispering in his head, other things Souji’s been keeping inside and bottling up. But those two things are what finally made the dam break with the impact of an army of wrecking balls. It’s rare for the stoic Souji to get so overly emotional that he feels like there’s a river behind his eyes, but it’s not like it’s never happened. Only twice he can remember, though.

               He sighs, leaning into the back of the downstairs couch and runs a hand through his hair, careful to avoid his glasses. The book he had been trying to distract himself with lies discarded and forgotten on the floor, along with the scattered laundry he hadn’t bothered to pick up. The house was a mess, and for once the usually neatnik Souji Seta didn’t care.

 

———

 

               Yosuke didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he had forgotten to get a pack of napkins with his to-go bag, or the fact that Aiya’s had somehow run out of sautéed shrimp. From the way his taste-buds watered at the thought, Yosuke was beginning to lean towards the latter.

               With a heave and a side lean, the brunette pedaled his bike onto the water slicked road that led towards the Dojima household. It was Sunday, the weather holding grey and gloomy clouds that had been hanging about ever since the gang had saved Nanako-chan from Namatame only three days ago. _Had it really only been the short a time?_ , he wondered. Ever since returning, it felt as if time had become a metaphorical hourglass, passing by slowly and seemingly empty. School was normal enough, meaning Yosuke still had his head glued to his desk every period as he slept, sometimes waking up to the hard snap of a teacher’s ruler, or the gentle but firm hand of his partner’s hand on his shoulder. It had only been the former of the two these days, though, something the brunette would never voice he missed from the other. It was just wrong to assume Souji would be fine after everything that had happened; Yosuke knew this, no matter how surreal it felt.

               He pedaled his bike that creeped like it was on death’s row a few more feet before holding down the breaks, and got off to set it against the wall. Now standing at the old door with a slightly heavy plastic bag of Chinese food, the brunette found himself at a loss.

               This felt _wrong_.

               Not wrong in the sense that _he shouldn’t be there_ and _the universe was looking at him in scorn for his decision_ , but in the sense that this had never happened before and that there was a nest of fluttering butterflies in his stomach clawing up towards his chest, where his heart was. It had always been the other way around; _Yosuke_ being the one to talk, ramble and vent to _Souji_ about what he was feeling and how he felt so lost at times, how Saki-senpai's death felt like the jab and twist of a knife in his chest, how knowing that you chose to do a righteous ‘save the world act’ for the most selfish of reasons made him feel like utter crap. But when it came to Souji, none of that seemed to matter even a little. The guy was practically a free psychiatrist who you could talk to about problems; he listened and never interrupted, he always said the right words, and even through the stoic expression he always wore you knew he wasn’t judging you and that you had all his attention.

               Yosuke could still remember the warmth of the silver-haired teens arms wrapped around him in a soothing embrace, and the gentle feel of the country side wind coupled with the sound of the flowing water from the riverside. Even after crying up a waterfall and practically soaking his partners’ shoulder, the guy didn’t seem to mind in the least, even having one of his rare smiles quirking at the sides of his lips.

               Taking a deep breath and ignoring the heat radiating from the tips of his ears to his cheeks, Yosuke knocked on the door, only now feeling the full awareness that his partner was just a few feet away from him, only a rickety wooden door separating them. The loud beating of his heart, _badum badum_ , in his ears made it difficult to determine how many seconds had passed, and the anxiety coursing through the teen wasn’t helping. After what he could almost safely assume as a minute having passed, Yosuke was about to reach forward and knock again before he heard a soft _click_ and the door opened slightly, sending a cold draft towards him, making him shiver even in his thick orange jacket. At first he saw nothing, before a messy tuft of silver hair peeked out. If the brunette hadn’t known that this was his partner whom he had never before seen so disheveled, he would have thought it was the male version of Sadako reincarnate.

                Dark bags decorated the underneath of Souji’s eyes, and Yosuke most definitely did not remember those being there yesterday. The teen before his expression seemed to flash into something unreadable for an instant, before reverting back to normal as quick as it had come, leaving the brunette to speculate if it had just been his imagination making a fool of his senses.

                An uncomfortable silence enveloped the two, Yosuke standing there awkwardly and Souji leaning a little outside the door, just staring at his visitor.

               “Oh, uh, hey man! Wow — you, er, you look great!” Not really the best or most honest greeting he could have come up with, but when Souji’s eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly in amusement, the brunette didn’t really care all that much then. The quiet teen shuffled a bit more out of the door, until his body was mostly outside instead of in. Yosuke was expecting him to say some snarky or witty comment that only the brunette would catch because of his partner’s seriously monotonous way of speaking, but was surprised when it never came and was only answered with a silent stare.

               Yosuke unconsciously looked away, then quietly chided himself for doing so. The uncomfortable silence was back, sending off more alert signs in the magician's mind that something was _definitely wrong_. Frantically searching his mind for something to do, something to say, he looked down at what he had forgotten he had been holding, then looked back at the silver-haired teen and held up the to-go bag that was decorated with big red block letters of ‘THANK YOU’ and ‘AIYAAAAAAAA’ on it.

               “I got some dinner; did’ya want some?”

               The moment the words left his lips, Souji’s face instantly turned troubled. _Ah, crap_ , Yosuke thought, though he didn’t know what it was he possibly could have said that earned that particular reaction.

               Unless, of course….

              _Souji just simply didn’t want to spend time with him._

               The thought felt like a slap in the face, but he didn’t have the time to reel in reaction.

               “I…. Thank you, Yosuke, but I’m not hungry.”

               The brunette only blinked stupidly in response. He never knew Souji to reject Aiya’s. Heck, it was one of the few things the brunette knew the guy actually _liked_. Feeling his suspicions growing, Yosuke managed to hold his ground.

               “…Are you sure? You don’t look…”

               “I’m fine, Yosuke.” He didn’t miss the finality tone in the silver-haired teens voice, and Yosuke almost found himself feeling relieved, then froze. It was so easy to believe Souji would always be the voice of reason, always be their anchor and never break. He then realized how much he had hoped his partner was okay, how there was nothing wrong, how nothing could faze their leader, and that this entire visit was completely unnecessary. But Yosuke knew how stupid that was, that someone — even if it was Souji, could never be affected by the things that happened to them. He could remember all the times Yukiko, Chie, Kanji, Rise, Naoto and even himself had said if Souji ever needed anything, to come to them. He now realized just how much those words had been said in jest.

 _No_ , Yosuke thought. _Me and Souj’ are best friends, partners. I meant what I said, and I’m going to prove it._

               "No.” The brunette was surprised by the power behind his voice. “You’re not, Souji.” Souji’s simple stare turned into a cold glare.

               “I’m _fine_.” “Man, don’t give me that crap! Dojima-san’s in the hospital, and Nanako-chan’s—“

              _**Wham**_.

               The brunette was interrupted by the loud, reverberating sound of a fist hitting a hard wall.

               “……”

               “……”

               Steeling himself, Yosuke’s hand that was holding the Aiya bag gripped tighter, and he barged into the opening from Souji’s right and entered the Dojima household, swiftly taking off his shoes as he reached the genkan.

               “Yosuke—“ The silver-haired teens protests landed on deaf ears as the brunette headed to the kitchen, who stopped midway there. The house was dark, so dark that Yosuke barely saw 4 feet in front of him. There was an odd odor roaming about, and when he turned on the light switch the ground was littered with trash and clothes and other things that weren’t uncommon on the floor in Yosuke’s room, but not here. Yosuke was beginning to lean toward forgetting the napkins from earlier instead of the shrimp. The kitchen sink was full of dirty dishes, and the fridge was emitting a dark purple aura that closely resembled Yukiko and Chie’s cooking.

               The memory sent a chill down his spine…

 

———

 

               Dinner was even more quiet and uncomfortable than it had been at the door. After Yosuke had set up the take-out on the living room table, Souji had grown quiet and complacent, not quite putting up the same fight like he had earlier.

               The food tasted bland in the magician's mouth, and Yosuke suspected he was probably pissing off some culinary God somewhere, not appreciating the chow mien noodles he was currently munching on. Really, the food was good, just not in _this situation_. But Yosuke was too far into this to even think about backing out -- also, that would be a pretty dick move, too.

               “Why…” The brunette’s head snapped up at the sound of his partner’s soft, hoarse voice. Had it been like that earlier?

               “Why are you here?”

               The question itself was simple, but Yosuke found himself unable to properly respond immediately.

               “Souji… you do realize that if there was any sign that the world could possibly end, it would be you, the neatnik, with unkempt hair and a messy house, right?”

               The teen just rolled his eyes in response. Yosuke would have normally gotten irritated, but was distracted by the realization that the silver-haired teen was wearing glasses.

               Yosuke took a mental note for later.

               Souji said nothing further, and soon afterwards Yosuke had already cleared the table, putting the leftover food in the newly cleaned fridge. Well, it wasn’t really clean now considering Yosuke’s only experience cleaning was working at Junes, but at least it wasn’t emitting an ominous aura.

               He looked around his shoulder at the sight that was the kitchen.

               Souji was a mess, the living room was a mess, the laundry was a mess, the _kitchen was a mess_ \-- this _entire_ house was a _fucking_ mess, and the brunette wasn’t sure where he should _start_ to put it all back together, or if he even had the _right_ to do so. Who was he to come traipsing in here and put himself into the mold? Different people dealt with their problems, with grief, differently. A shoulder to cry on wasn’t always a wanted coddlement.

               Yosuke paused.

               That may be true, but even s--

               “How long are you going to stay here?” Souji’s voice was monotonous as usual, though for some reason, to his ears, it sounded abnormally forced, and a tiny bit annoyed.

                Yosuke was about to scratch the back of his neck and smile up at the teen nervously, but he stopped mid smile and, mid hand-move. His gaze faltered down to his shoelaces. A beat passed.

               “Yosuke?”

               “I-I’m staying over!” He suddenly announced, internally cringing at his voice crack, but not caring one damn bit in the end because there was no way he was leaving his partner to deal with this all alone.

 

  ———

 

               The only clean pair of pajamas in the house were a pair of Dojima’s, and though Yosuke knew he looked like an idiot in the oversized and frankly overflowing clothing, he swallowed any and all complaints that came to mind and stuffed them in an imaginary bin titled _'Not Right Now’_.

               He stepped out of the bathroom after rolling up the hem of the pants, and walked down the hallway to where Souji’s room was. The floorboards creaked and shuddered under his steps, and when he put a hand on the doorknob, Souji’s door creaked the entire way open.

              _How had he managed to sneak out without getting caught?_ , he wondered. Sometimes their journeys into the TV world began well after the decent hours of night, so whatever the silver-haired boy's method was, this door seemed to be an intense liability for such an inconspicuous endeavor.

              Yosuke walked into the room meekly under Souji’s gaze, looking around for a potential sitting area and, finally taking a seat on the floor beside the couch where his friend was. Souji leaned on his side with one arm, temple and half of his torso against the coolness of the window as he stared out through the glass to the outside, not looking at the magician any longer. An uncomfortable, awkward silence befell them, and the seconds seemed to tick by instead like minutes.

              “So, uh… I like what you’ve, uh, done with the place…?”

              The usually neat and organized room now looked as if a tornado had stormed through it; clothes and papers were scattered everywhere, the futon wasn’t folded up and was a wrinkly mess, and the table that Yosuke had seen Souji work at before had been pushed over on its’ side.

              Or maybe, it would be more accurate to say that _Souji_ had stormed through the room.

              Souji said nothing but a silent hum in response. It didn’t seem like he was going to be bringing up any conversational topics on his own, and bringing up casual banter wasn't getting anywhere.

              Yosuke took in a deep breath.

              “I wonder what’s gonna happen to Namatame. I mean, of course I want to see the guy behind bars, but they can’t exactly do that until he’s awake…”

              Silence.

              “Phew, Dojima-san’s clothes sure are giganitc! I wonder if he’ll get mad that I wore them when he gets back?!”

              Silence.

              “How long do you think Nanako-chan’s going to be in the hospital? It sure is lonely without her here…”

              A twitch.

              “Yosuke…” Souji’s voice was veiled with warning, and Yosuke’s brain was screaming at him WARNING WARNING ABORT ABORT.

              The brunette, of course, threw caution to the wind. “No, man, talk to me. You can’t just haul yourself in here and fester in your own misery--!”

              “Then what else am I supposed to do?! This isn’t the TV world -- my personas don’t work here, so I can’t cast something like _Diarahan_ or _Samarecarm_! Dojima-san’s going to live, yeah, but when Nanako-- if, Nanako dies, the first thing he’ll do is either drown himself in alcohol again or jump from that hospital roof!!” Souji screamed at him, voice hitching as he reached the end. Then he turned away, and started furiously wiping his arms at the front of his face.

               Wait, was he --

               Yosuke immediately jumped up and went to his partners’ side, arms extended as if to envelope the other teen in a hug, but stopping himself short because he wasn’t sure if that would be the best way to console Souji. While the thought of hugging another guy put him on edge -- unless it was Souji, because then it was okay, and oh no his face was starting to heat up -- _not now_.

               The brunette cut off his train of thought when --

               “Sorry,” the silver-haired boy apologized. “I didn’t mean for you to see me like this… Sorry, Yosuke.”

                _What the hell? Why is he apologizing?_ If anything, Yosuke should be the one apologizing…!

               “I guess I’m not really all that strong if I can become a weak mess so easily…” he mumbled, unable to hide the strain in his voice.

               “Th--That’s…!” _That’s not true_ , he wanted to say, but for some reason it seemed inadequate, too little words for the real and big ones Souji needed to hear, right now.

               After a moment Yosuke finally reached out fully, encompassing his arms around the other and opening his mouth slowly.

               “Y-Y’know… this might just be me, but… I don’t think crying is a sign of weakness, yeah? I think it’s a sign of having tried too hard to be strong for too long.”

               The Fool locked eyes with the Magician, contact refusing to be broken until Yosuke reached over to his neck and removed his headphones then, putting them instead over Souji’s head and ears, letting the music begin to play and whispering hushed sounds to his partner as he nestled his head into the crook of his neck.

               One good thing about music was, when it hits you, you feel no pain. Unless of course you turned the music up high enough to burst an eardrum, but Yosuke wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole.

               Rain pelted against the house in near silent rhythm, _thump, thump, thump_. Souji, who had been leaning on his side with one arm, temple and half of his torso against the coolness of the window as he stared out through the glass to the outside, was being rocked back and forth in Yosuke’s arms, wondering what exactly there was to be said through the quiet. What _could_ be said.

               His thoughts, as numb and jumbled as they were, came up empty, and so that’s how the atmosphere stayed.

               Empty.

               The silence would remain.

               “....”

               No, --

     

               -- that wasn’t exactly right. Nothing needed to be said, so therefore nothing was. It wasn’t the same thing as an empty silence where if someone were to say something, it would be stripped of its meaning. No, this was a silence where _the silence itself was the entire meaning._

               Souji had always hated the “sshhhh” sound people make when someone consoles a crying person. To him, the sound is belittling and agitating, making the tears immediately disappear as a scowl of fury embeds itself on his face. But this, this was different. He didn't know if it was because somehow Yosuke’s arms were warmer than the few he’d experienced, if it was the quiet music he could hear coming from the brunette’s headphones, or even if it was just the fact that it’s Yosuke and this feels so right that it completely overrides everything else. All Souji knows is that in this moment, for the first time in his life, he doesn’t seem to mind the “sshhh” consoling words he used to despise so much.

 

 

———

 

 

When the deer cries

The red leaves too

Fall like tears

-Issa, (1763-1828)

 

 

———

 

 

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> *sips tea* Welp. This took an interesting turn.


End file.
